


in the long summer evening

by keptein



Series: affections (b/w) [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Frottage, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-04 05:12:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11548188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keptein/pseuds/keptein
Summary: “I hope it gets colder soon,” Koutarou says. He means,colder in general, because lately the asphalt has been burning his feet if he tries to walk on it. He means,colder tonight, because today he is going to sleep with Kuroo and Akaashi, and if it's as hot as this, he can't stand the idea of anyone touching him for long.





	in the long summer evening

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cinnaminnt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnaminnt/gifts).



> a comm for colfox! more info on my tumblr. she requested a follow up to my previous work for her - it's in the same series, so check that out if you haven't. this can be read as a standalone too, though.

The cotton of Koutarou’s t-shirt is sticky with sweat and it clings to his back. The tattoo beneath is newly healed, scabs finally giving way to fresh, soft skin, and the fabric is currently being pushed up by Kuroo so he can touch the skin in question, following the lines with his finger. “Man,” he says softly. “This is still so fucking gorgeous.”

“Hold on, let me…” Koutarou grabs the ends of his shirt and pulls it off, discarding it next to the couch. He watches how it folds anxiously - even though it's perfectly normal, the sweat rings around his neck and armpit are still something he wants to hide.

“You’re lucky,” Kuroo says. His fingertips have calluses that run along Koutarou’s back, and their firmness is reassuring. Kuroo’s hands do not feel like anyone else’s. “It’s healed really well.”

“I know,” Koutarou exhales. “I was pretty nervous about it - hard to keep an eye on, you know.”

Kuroo laughs. His hand moves up to Koutarou’s hair, stroking where his neck meets his hairline until he finally pulls away entirely. “You’ve been doing a pretty good job, I’d say. All you need is a mirror and some yoga classes.”

Koutarou huffs. He moves to sit back on the couch, picking up his t-shirt again. The smell of sweat sticks to it, and he hesitates for a moment, embarrassed to put it back on. Kuroo nods at the fabric in his hands.

“You wanna borrow a shirt?”

“If - if it’s not a bother…”

Kuroo shakes his head, standing up. “It’s too fucking hot, dude, I get it.” He flaps his own t-shirt, fanning himself with it, and Koutarou’s mouth dries at the sight, tan skin stretched taut over Kuroo’s hips and abdomen.

“Yeah,” he says slowly, and then he clears his throat. “When, uh.. When did Akaashi say he’d be coming?”

“Should be here soon,” Kuroo calls as he moves from room to room, coming back from the bedroom with a black tank top that he hands to Koutarou. “Here, this should be big enough for you.”

“Thanks, man,” Koutarou says, gripping it gratefully and tugging it over his head. There is a momentary relief from the heat as the fabric, still cool from the dark wardrobe, settles around his skin and soothes his tattoo.

“Hold on, let me get you a drink.” Kuroo disappears again, and returns holding two tall glasses of water. He sits back down on the couch next to Koutarou. When Koutarou takes the glass, the ice cubes in it clink against each other, a refreshing sound that cuts through the heat.

“I hope it gets colder soon,” Koutarou says. He means,  _ colder in general,  _ because lately the asphalt has been burning his feet if he tries to walk on it. He means,  _ colder tonight,  _ because today he is going to sleep with Kuroo and Akaashi, and if it's as hot as this, he can't stand the idea of anyone touching him for long.

And he wants, desperately, to cuddle up against them. Both, either, as long as it's with him. “Me too,” Kuroo says. Half of his glass is empty already, and Koutarou watches his throat work as he swallows the rest of it. “This heat is something else… Global warming sure is coming for us, huh?”

Koutarou nods. He can't tear his eyes away from Kuroo's throat. “It's our own fault,” he hears himself say. “Fucking up the planet and all that.”

Kuroo chuckles, and even though Koutarou is already caught in the sweltering heat, Kuroo’s laughter makes him feel a very specific kind of warmth. He watches as Kuroo opens his mouth to speak, but they’re interrupted by the doorbell ringing, a sharp noise contrasting against the languid mood of the evening. Koutarou jumps, and Kuroo stands up to open the door.

“I’m fucking dying,” Akaashi says flatly as soon as he’s inside the flat. A few hairs are plastered to his forehead, and he’s wearing only a black tank top - identical to the one Koutarou is currently wearing, he realises - that shows off the tendrils of ink running along his arms and coiling around his shoulders. “This is the  _ fucking _ worst.”

“So foul-mouthed,” Kuroo says, clicking his tongue.

Akaashi stares at him, deadpan. Several seconds pass.

“I’ll get you a glass of water,” Kuroo says, taking his own and Koutarou’s glasses through to the kitchen. 

Koutarou laughs after him, while Akaashi comes to sit down next to him. “Whipped!”

“You’re wearing my clothes,” Akaashi tells Koutarou, who immediately loses his smile, sitting up and flushing.

“I - yeah, I took my t-shirt off, uh…” He nods towards where it is still discarded on the ground. “Sweaty.”

“What isn’t,” Akaashi replies irritably, pushing some of his fringe away from his forehead. “It’s fine. You look good.”

“Ah…” Koutarou swallows, throat dry, and eagerly accepts the glass of water that Kuroo hands him as he comes back. “Thank you.”

“No worries,” Kuroo says, settling down on the couch as well. He gives Akaashi the last glass, who immediately chugs half of it and holds the cool glass against his forehead.

“What are we doing for dinner? I want a bucket of ice cubes.”

Koutarou snorts at Akaashi’s delivery. “We could order something. I don't wanna cook in this heat.”

“Sounds good to me,” Kuroo says amiably. “Or I can go to the shop, pick up some sushi.”

“You'd go back out into that?” Akaashi looks at Kuroo, stricken.

“The shop has air conditioning, babe.”

“We're all going,” Akaashi says immediately. “Let's go right now.”

Koutarou laughs properly this time, and it makes both of the others smile, exchanging a glance he doesn't understand.

On the way to the shop, some of his anxiety melts away - all things are equal under the sun, and all that. The idea of what might happen later tonight still makes his skin prickle, but it no longer feels inevitable that he will fuck it up. Akaashi and Kuroo have invited him over several times, after all, and they've made their intentions clear so he could easily refuse them. At the counter, Koutarou starts fumbling for change and Kuroo waves his hand away, paying before Koutarou has the chance to.

It feels like a sign, maybe, that he is being allowed some leeway to be awkward and anxious and all over the place. Akaashi and Kuroo truly don't seem to mind his company, and he only hopes they'd tell him if he went too far, presumed too much. 

His worries recede even further throughout the evening, with a slow meal followed by an hour of even slower conversation, languid in the heat and waiting for the food to be digested before they move on. The awareness of what comes next never goes away, but it coexists peacefully with the desire to be in the moment, not to rush through it.

“Oh, finally,” Akaashi sighs when the last of the sun disappears behind the horizon, a cool breeze running through the apartment. “I feel like a person again.”

Kuroo hums in acknowledgement. He reaches over and pushes up Akaashi's tank top, spreading his hand over Akaashi's abdomen. Akaashi lets him rest it there. “Yeah, this is good.”

Koutarou watches them curiously. “What are you doing?”

“Just checking the temperature of touch,” Kuroo says, as if there's any world in which that makes sense. He reaches out, resting a hand on Koutarou’s arm. “You're like a furnace, though, buddy. Super hot.” Kuroo winks at him and Koutarou laughs, caught off-guard. Even with the underlying tension, the knowledge between the three of them of where the night would end, this is the first explicit reference to any of it. Koutarou doesn't entirely know what to do. Expressing his eagerness may come off as immature and embarrassing, but  _ not _ expressing it may give Akaashi and Kuroo the wrong idea entirely.

“Don't worry,” he promises. “I'll make sure you're too distracted to notice.”

Kuroo eyes widen and then he grins, salacious and wide. “Nice.”

“Bokuto,” Akaashi says slowly, still silently enjoying the change in temperature.

“Yes?”

“Come here. I want to kiss you.”

Koutarou smiles and moves over, meeting Akaashi’s lips. Akaashi tangles a hand in his hair, even though it’s gross and matt with sweat, holding him close as they kiss. They’ve kissed before, but never like this - there’s intent in the way Akaashi licks into his mouth, and Koutarou is left defenseless and panting when they part. “...wow.”

Akaashi smiles. Even when he’s not trying, he’s seductive, the curve of his lips so tempting that Koutarou leans forward and kisses him again, sighing into it. Confidence fills his chest, and when he pulls back, he moves the few inches to kiss Kuroo, square on the mouth. Kuroo laughs, startled, but reaches up to grip Koutarou’s arms, stopping him when he tries to move away. “Give me some warning,” he says, and Koutarou laughs, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s cute. Do it again.”

Koutarou huffs but presses closer again, pressing his mouth to Kuroo’s. Kuroo parts his lips easily, pulling Koutarou’s lower lip into his mouth and sucking gently, and Koutarou can’t help the sigh that escapes him. He moves closer to Kuroo, and it’s true that the temperature is finally letting human touch be bearable - Kuroo’s hands are still wrapped around his biceps, and the place where their thighs are touching makes Koutarou long for more, instead of needing to pull away.

He kisses Kuroo for a while. Or Kuroo kisses him, the logistics aren’t quite clear. It’s not like it matters, though, all that matters is that he gets to pull Kuroo closer and taste his mouth - although he knows it will take more than this once for him to have it memorised.

Akaashi hums, and it’s loud enough for Kuroo to move back. The hand he’s been resting on Akaashi’s stomach has snuck further up now, Koutarou can see, far enough so Akaashi’s top is pushed up to his clavicle and Kuroo is thumbing at one of his nipples, dark and perky. The sight makes Koutarou dizzy, and he leans heavily against Kuroo.

“We should move,” Akaashi says. His voice is low, but clear. Koutarou swallows and nods.

He stands up, and after a moment, Kuroo and Akaashi do too. As if he can sense Koutarou’s nerves, Kuroo keeps a light hand on Koutarou’s hip. It feels like a reassurance - it’s okay to want to be close.

_ It’s okay to want to be closer. _

“You guys should show me the way,” Koutarou jokes when none of them immediately move. He knows where it is - of course he knows where it is, but he’s still grateful when Akaashi strides on ahead, he and Kuroo following through the small corridor into their bedroom.

It’s temperate in here, too, not yet warmed by human bodies. The window is wide open, and outside, Koutarou can see the lights of the city, dusk settling and encouraging the move from natural to artificial light. It feels like a dream, even more so when Kuroo’s hand on his hip turns certain and tugs him closer with a special, forced kind of certainty. He kisses him deeply, and Koutarou barely stops himself from moaning into his mouth, hands resting against Kuroo’s firm chest. The bar from Kuroo’s pierced nipples pushes against his palms, only separated by the threadbare fabric of Kuroo’s t-shirt, and Koutarou wants to touch them, wants to see if they taste like skin or just metal.

“You still okay with this?” Kuroo murmurs into his mouth.

“Please let me see you shirtless,” Koutarou says in return, and Kuroo laughs properly, head thrown back. Koutarou smiles, enjoying the sight, and so does Akaashi, who wastes no time in shedding his own black tank-top.

“Bokuto,” he says, and Koutarou’s head snaps to him, swallowing audibly when he sees that Akaashi is already half naked. There’s more ink on him, abstract geometrics jumping from his ribs to settle on his sternum, and even though Koutarou has tattoos now, too, there’s still something about Akaashi that makes them look so  _ dangerous  _ on him. Like he knows how to play the system. Like Koutarou’s mother would use her annual curse if she found out what kind of company her son was keeping.

Akaashi laughs.

“That’s a very flattering reaction.”

Koutarou can’t tell what he’s referring to; his face, maybe, or his silence, or the fact that it feels like his cock is never gonna soften ever again. Just this memory - of Akaashi, of Kuroo, of the air and smells of the city - will be enough to keep him hard for  _ years. _ He says as much out loud, in an ill-advised attempt at honesty, and Akaashi kisses him while Kuroo undresses down to his boxers, and then they all move to the bed.

Koutarou’s clothes are still on, but that doesn’t last long. Kuroo’s hands are soft as they stroke over his stomach, and Akaashi’s fingers are long and sure, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down. The lack of pressure makes Koutarou whimper, both freeing and frustrating in its absence. He arches, grabbing Kuroo and pulling him down to bite at his lips, mumbling, “fuck, this is - way too much…”

Immediately, Kuroo and Akaashi stop, and Kuroo looks at him carefully. “Yeah? You wanna put your shorts back on?”

“What - no, no…” Koutarou falls back against the mattress. He’s panting softly, which is even more embarrassing now that it’s quiet, and Akaashi and Kuroo can hear it so clearly. “I’m just saying, I’ve dreamt about this for a  _ long _ time, and if it turns out to be even better…”

“Oh,” Kuroo exhales, and then he laughs. “Well, we’ll have to make sure it is. Right, Keiji?” He quirks an eyebrow at Akaashi, who nods. They’re sitting on their knees on each side of Koutarou. Kuroo reaches over and cups Akaashi's face, and then they're kissing above Koutarou. He can see glimpses of tongue as they lick into each other's mouths, the kiss familiarly demanding, and it makes him aroused and envious. Kuroo and Akaashi are lovers, and they have been for such a long time, and even though he's spread out in his boxers between them, Koutarou is intimately aware that he is on the periphery. A spectator into a relationship, nothing more.

Koutarou might be falling in love with them.

Kuroo moans, and Koutarou can see where Akaashi is twisting the barbell pierced through his nipple. The two of them are inherently self-sufficient - all Koutarou can do is enjoy the moments he gets.

Of which this is a major one. He reaches for Akaashi's hip, tugging at him and pouting. “Attention,” he says sadly, and Akaashi's lips twist in a smile, leaning down and kissing him too. Koutarou exhales into it, satisfies, and wraps his arms around Akaashi's neck. “Better.”

“So greedy,” Akaashi murmurs and kisses him again, Koutarou laughing into it. Hands stroke up his side and over his chest, tracing the dip of his pectorals with fingers and then a tongue, and Koutarou falls back, moaning. Kuroo licks his way over Koutarou’s abdomen, giving the skin small bites and kisses, and Koutarou watches him with hazy eyes and flushed cheeks.

“I - not tonight, because I haven't - prepared or anything, but sometime soon, I want you to fuck me,” he tells Kuroo, a little breathless, and Kuroo moans into his hip.

_ “Fuck,  _ yeah… Shit.” He reaches down between his own legs, squeezing his cock as if he could come just from the thought, and Koutarou shivers happily.”Lemme blow you tonight, though, yeah?”

“Oh,  _ please,”  _ Koutarou says loudly, and Kuroo laughs as he wraps his lips around his cock, tongue playing with the head of it. Koutarou grunts - Kuroo's mouth is hot and feels good,  _ so _ good, and he needs Akaashi, Akaashi, “Akaashi - Akaashi, Kuroo -”

Akaashi muffles him with a kiss, swallowing his moans and pulling them out of his mouth with his tongue, and Koutarou feels so overwhelmed already. He doesn't exist anywhere but his mouth on Akaashi's and his cock in Kuroo’s, it feels like, and the day's temperature has nothing on the heat rolling over him now, cloying and needy and humid. Koutarou is dripping with want and sweat and precome, Kuroo sucking it up greedily.

His thighs start to shake, twitching on either side of Kuroo's head, and then his orgasm rolls over him, and he barely has enough time to yelp a warning before he comes on Kuroo's tongue.

Kuroo pulls back, coughing and laughing, and Koutarou is moaning breathless apologies, still shaking a little. “It's fine,” Kuroo tells him, grinning. “You taste better than Keiji.”

“I drink fruit juice,” Koutarou says faintly, catching his breath while Akaashi snorts.

“Funny how you never complain when you're begging to go down on me,” Akaashi says to Kuroo, who flushes and lies down next to Koutarou.

“Shit, that's hot,” Koutarou exhales, gaze moving slowly between them. “I gotta see that sometime.”

“I'm sure you will.” Akaashi bends and kisses him, surprisingly softly compared to his sharp tongue. “Do you wanna be between us?”

“Hmm?” Koutarou blinks. His brain still feels like molasses, and thoughts pass slowly.

“Tetsurou and I could be on either side of you,” Akaashi says, “while we get off.”

“Ooh, sandwich,” Kuroo chimes in, which Koutarou interprets as support for the idea. “I like that.”

“Me too,” Koutarou says, a little garbled. His brain has tried to imagine what it will look like, and it is no longer gooey, just straight up fried. Like an egg in a microwave,  _ pop _ , no more Koutarou. “You two are too sexy, you're breaking my brain.”

Kuroo laughs, surprised, and Akaashi grins as he gets down in front of him - Koutarou turns onto his side, and then Kuroo’s warm body is following all along the back of his own, cock pressing snugly against his ass. Koutarou swallows and presses back against it, listening to the soft moan Kuroo lets out as he grinds back against him. “Fuck, you’re one to talk about us bein’ too sexy…”

Koutarou watches Akaashi through lidded, hazy eyes as he presses closer, and then Akaashi’s cock is sliding against his own, Akaashi hissing an exhale. “Wow…”

“Wait,” Koutarou gets out. “Let me - you can, ah, fuck my thighs, if you… both of you, I mean…” He lifts one thigh, hand moving to hold his cock against his stomach so both Akaashi and Kuroo can push their members in between his thighs - Kuroo moans, sharp and ragged, while Akaashi is quiet, breathing unsteadily.

“Bokuto,” Akaashi murmurs, hips moving, cock slipping in and out between Koutarou’s thighs, smearing Koutarou’s skin with precome and mixing it with Kuroo’s. “Bokuto…” The sight of his face, tan skin flushed pink and lips wet and bitten, is too much - Koutarou has to close his eyes, feeling Kuroo and Akaashi move against him. Never has he felt more like he's dreaming, caught in some virile bedtime fantasy, and it's all he can do to grab hold and let the feelings and sensations rush over him, filling him with more and more and  _ more _ until he swears he's coming again, even though his cock is soft and pressed against his stomach, and there's slick everywhere, between his thighs and along his ass and Akaashi and Kuroo are gripping him tightly, and he thinks he's babbling in the middle of it, but how can he not, it's so much, it's everything he's ever - 

_ “Fuck,” _ Akaashi mumbles, and then Kuroo is moaning right in Koutarou’s ear, and there's even more wetness between Koutarou’s thighs. He can't help the whine that escapes him, feeling Akaashi's hot breaths against his cheek and hearing Kuroo against his back, still moaning.

“Oh, my God…” Kuroo wraps an arm around him, hand stretching over Koutarou to reach Akaashi's side and stroking it. “That was good.”

“Mm,” Koutarou agrees, his hum high-pitched and thready. “Good.”

Akaashi laughs. Koutarou looks at him. His eyes are soft and warm, unlike anything Koutarou has ever seen before, and he shifts to kiss him. Their lips move against each other, slow and content now that the need has died down, and when Koutarou pulls back, he's smiling too, snuggling back into Kuroo.

“Thank you for having me over,” he tells them. Kuroo noses at his neck and presses a soft kiss to the skin behind his ear.

“Thanks for coming,” he says, and Koutarou can't help the snort of laughter that escapes him, making Kuroo laugh too while Akaashi looks on with an exasperated stare.

“Anytime,” Koutarou replies, smiling and giving Akaashi an exaggerated wink. Akaashi rolls his eyes, but Koutarou can see the smile he's hiding, and he wonders whether he'd taste it if he kisses Akaashi again.

He can, now. He can kiss Akaashi as much as he want, and Kuroo too.

Wow, he thinks.

“Ah, I’m too hot,” Kuroo complains, moving away. Koutarou takes the opportunity to sprawl onto his back, staying in the middle and making sure he’s in contact with both of them. “I can’t wait until it gets colder, I bet you can keep us warm all night long, Bokuto.”

“Yeah, I run pretty hot,” Koutarou agrees, blushing. 

“So you said,” Akaashi comments, slotting into Koutarou’s side neatly and clearly not minding the heat of their bodies touching. “I get cold at night, especially in winter.”

The implication that they’ll be sleeping together at least until the season changes, maybe even until it changes back again, makes Koutarou grin so wide his cheeks hurt. “I’m cheaper than a heater,” he says.

Kuroo laughs, tracing the muscles of Koutarou’s forearm lightly, and his fingerpads feel just as callused and exciting as they did on Koutarou’s tattoo. That feels like an eternity ago now, that anxious cloud of humidity and nerves. He feels calm here, between Kuroo and Akaashi, fitting in like it’s where he was meant to be all along. Maybe tomorrow, he will be annoyed at himself for how long it took him to get here, how much energy he wasted by being nervous and uncertain, but right now he just feels relieved that it’s over, and that he can relax.

“You look happy,” Akaashi says softly, watching his face.

“I am,” Koutarou says. He finds Kuroo’s hand and squeezes it. “I really am.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on [tumblr](http://tivruskis.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/tivruskis).


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